


Summer

by GotTea



Series: The Four Seasons [2]
Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTea/pseuds/GotTea
Summary: The heat of summer is golden and glorious.
Relationships: Peter Boyd/Grace Foley
Series: The Four Seasons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981579
Kudos: 8





	Summer

**Summer**

* * *

Glorious heat.

A pure, aquamarine sky stretching as far as the eye can see.

White sand, the gentle rush of crystal-clear waves rolling in on the shore.

It is a perfect summer’s day.

Ever opposed to tradition and the rules, they opted for the ceremony to be held at sunrise, to have the entire day to spend with their family.

There was a picnic lunch between games and laughter and long stretches in the deliciously warm water.

Tonight they will barbeque as the sun goes down, sitting together around a traditional fire and roasting marshmallows.

It’s what she wanted, when he asked.

It made him smile, as he agreed.

At the water’s edge, the waves lapping at her ankles and the steady heat of the sun soaking into her, Grace stands and watches.

Peter’s brother and sisters are playing a surprisingly enthusiastic and competitive game of rounders with their partners, children, and Grace’s son-in-law. Laughing as they race each other further along the shore, the eldest nephew – now her nephew, too – and her youngest daughter’s fiancé are chasing after an errant kite that has escaped one of the small cluster of sandcastle-building little ones belonging to various members of the assembled clans.

Closer still, but too far for her to hear their conversation, Peter himself is standing with two young women, deep in conversation. Rose, now four months pregnant with her first child, and Emmy are her beautiful, beloved girls and they have willingly and openly welcomed her lover into their lives in the last few years, and though they are grown both have come to view him as something of a father-figure, a post that he has well and truly embraced.

She thinks that their real father, gone for well over twenty years now, would approve.

As she watches, Emmy laughs and says something, and Peter wraps an arm around each of them, the three of them forming a tender group hug.

And then the girls leave him and return to their men and Peter walks towards her, warmth on his face and pleasure in his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, as he reaches her and rests his palms on her waist, gazing down and studying her, gentle concern evident in his hazel eyes.

“Because I’m happy, husband,” she tells him, wiping away the few errant tears that have escaped.

A broad grin forms on his lips. “I’m glad to hear it, wife,” he replies, before taking her hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

As their footsteps take them away from the group Grace feels the repeated heat of his gaze sliding sideways towards her.

“What is it?” she asks, squeezing his fingers where their hands are still linked.

Peter stops, turns so that they are facing one another. “I can’t get enough of how beautiful you look. That dress is… stunning.”

It’s not the sort of thing he ever says.

But then this day… it’s incredibly special.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, stepping closer for a spontaneous kiss that was supposed to be light and quick, but somehow lasts longer, becomes a little something more.

“As much as I am enjoying today, I can’t emphasise enough how much I’m looking forward to sunset,” he murmurs as they part. His fingers brush the neckline of the elegant, summery fabric covering her chest as his mind clearly wanders to the bedroom of their tiny rented cottage and his plans for their first night as a married couple.

Silky sheets and moonlight spilling into the room through the rooftop window. The heat of his body pressed against her own, the pressure of his lips on hers.

A shiver runs down her spine.

And then another, and another.

Unbidden, she kisses him again, fire rushing up and spilling from her lips as her arms twine around his neck and she steps closer still, crowding tightly against him.

Peter groans softly as they finally part. “God, woman…” he rasps.

The audible roughness of desire… Grace knows it, feels it. Melts against him and falls into the heat and strength of him, of his embrace.

It’s her wedding day. The sun glints off the new ring resting beside the beautiful, understated diamond her fate was sealed with.

She wants him more now than ever.

He knows. 

And he has her hand again, is leading her onwards towards the edge of the beach, is helping her climb the rocks there, his touch never straying.

It’s a much smaller cove, one that is utterly picturesque with towering cliffs, pristine white sand and the glittering aqua of the sea.

“It’s so beautiful,” murmurs Grace, wonderingly.

Peter makes a soft sound of agreement. “I thought you might like a little time alone together,” he tells her, leaning down to graze his lips against her temple.

Another shiver. Spreading, building heat rising in her body.

The thick tension of anticipation.

Grace closes her eyes as he steps right up behind her, lets his hands fall to her waist. Trails kisses across the back of her neck and shoulders.

He’s already hard.

Common sense and patience evaporate.

Tonight is just too far away. Grace twists and pulls, and then the two of them are hidden between the rocks and Peter is lifting her, setting her on a natural shelf as he leans in and they kiss and touch and push aside the bits of fabric between them.

There’s heat from the sun, the lightness of the breeze.

The impulsivity.

The pure happiness of the day.

Her beautiful dress pooled in the sand at his feet.

Grace cries out softly as Peter slips inside her, as they meld together, their breath mingling as they kiss and move, an erotic, hedonistic dance.

Her heart races, tension builds inside her.

The world shatters into exquisite pleasure and all that matters are the strong arms holding onto her, the intense connection she shares with the handsome man who just this morning promised her the world.

The man who has held her heart for a long, long time now.

“I love you. So much.”

It’s the first thing Grace hears as reality creeps back in.

“I love you, too, Peter,” she mumbles, still tucked against him, not wanting to move.

Soft laughter reaches her ears as he nuzzles her neck, kisses her hair.

Eventually he entices her down to the sand, takes his time helping her into the swimsuit that was under the dress, his palms lingering on her skin as she sighs softly, not wanting the moment to end.

“Tonight,” he promises, guessing the direction of her thoughts.

Now it is Grace who laughs, holds his eyes with her own.

Sees her own thoughts mirrored back at her there.

Hand in hand they amble about, exploring the nooks and crannies of the rocks, the scattering of shells, and the tiny tidepools brimming with life.

The lure of the sea is too much though.

“Swim with me?” asks Peter, his arm sliding around her waist again, his eyes lighting up with hope.

Acquiescing, she lets him lead her into the turquoise depths. Relaxes into his chest when he coaxes her to rest against him and float on the surface.

Grace studies their linked hands again, the gleam of metal on her ring finger and his.

“We got married,” she says, still amazed.

The water ripples as his chest moves beneath her shoulders. “It was about damn time.”

Grace grins, even though he can’t see it. “Are you sure you know what you’ve let yourself in for?”

“I think I’ll manage,” is the wry reply.

Turning in his arms, Grace steals a kiss. Lingers with her lips against his.

Sighs with happiness as they part naturally.

“Tonight.” It’s a promise accompanied by a sly-eyed gleam, a husky tone.

She doesn’t need to read his mind to know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t need to read hers either.

Happiness is an understatement.

Her heart is so, so full.

As they swim a little further out Grace catches sight of the beach, of the entire wedding party laughing and playing there.

Generations having fun.

A family.

Hers.

And his.

Thiers, now.

It is more glorious than the baking sunshine, more wonderful than the warmth of the summer’s day.

It’s a magnificent, happy promise for the future.

Their future, together. 


End file.
